


Longer Than the Road

by kesdax



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Crack, F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 13:35:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3136316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kesdax/pseuds/kesdax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hell hath no fury like an asset scorned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Longer Than the Road

**Author's Note:**

  * For [andymcnope (shipperfey)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=andymcnope+%28shipperfey%29).



> Spoilers for 4x11: If-Then-Else.
> 
> I am still a wreck, so here is some crack with a happy ending.

“Welcome back, Shaw,” said Reese. He had one arm around her shoulder, slightly tipsy after three mugs of champagne. Shaw barely noticed. Her attention was elsewhere. More specifically, it was across the room where Root and Fusco were… well, there was only one way Shaw could describe it.

Canoodling.

“You okay, Shaw?” Reese asked, glancing at her tightly clenched fists, the grinding of her teeth. He took a cautionary step backwards. Very wise. Shaw felt like punching something.

“Here,” said Harold, eyes darting to the couple (Shaw grimaced) and back at Shaw again, “have more champagne.”

Shaw held her mug out to him, eyes never leaving Root and Fusco. She snatched it back to her mouth before Harold had even stopped pouring and gulped it down in one. Not normally a fan of champagne, the bubbles went straight to her head. It put her in an odd mood.

This wasn’t the welcome home she had been expecting.

~#~

Passed out on the row of seats in the subway car, Reese was snoring loud enough to be heard above ground. Shaw flicked a peanut at him, but he only swatted it away absently with one hand before snorting and rolling over to his side to resume snoring once again.

Shaw kept her eyes fixed on him, sneering at the drool rolling down his chin and counting the number of ways she could kill him silently in his sleep. She got to seventeen before a loud, girlish giggle sounded throughout the underground station, startling Shaw out of her thoughts. She glared through the subway car’s window in the direction of the sound and felt her stomach drop at the sight of Root’s head ducked low as she leaned in closer to listen to whatever Fusco was whispering in her ear. Whatever it was, it made Root laugh, the smile staying bright and shining on her face. She looked… happy. They both did.

In the last eight months of her absence, it looked like the world had kept on turning. Unlike what she had imagined (not that she thought about it all the time, just rarely, when she was bored - it wasn’t like she actually missed Root or anything), Root _hadn’t_ spent the better part of a year pining after her. She had moved on.

With _Lionel._

Shaw shivered and turned away from the sight. She didn’t want to see where those smiles might lead.

“Anything else I missed while I was gone?” Shaw asked bitterly.

“Hm?” said Harold, frowning at Reese before glancing back down at his phone and smiling fondly at it. Shaw narrowed her eyes. “I have to go,” he said, pulling on his suit jacket quickly.

“Where?” said Shaw, a little startled. This was supposed to be her welcome home party. “We get a number?” she asked. _Finally_ , she thought. Time for a little fun and to get away from this bogus excuse of a party.

“I have a date,” said Harold. “Must dash,” he added, breezing out of the subway car before Shaw could question him further. Since when did Harold Finch go on dates?

Whining from somewhere at her feet grabbed Shaw’s attention and she knelt down to rub Bear behind the ears. “At least someone around here is happy to see me. You haven’t changed, have you buddy?”

Bear just whined in response, ever the faithful companion.

~#~

“What the hell is that?” asked Shaw, her nose crinkling in disgust.

“Aren’t they gorgeous?” Root gushed, inhaling deeply. Shaw caught the scent of the obnoxiously large bouquet of flowers in Root’s arms and sneered.

“No,” said Shaw flatly and went back to sullenly eating her sandwich.

“They’re from Lionel,” Root continued, oblivious to Shaw’s disinterest. “He’s such a sweetie.”

Quite unexpectedly, Shaw lost her appetite and tossed the remainder of her uneaten sandwich in the trash. “I’ll bet he is,” she muttered darkly under her breath. Root didn’t appear to be listening to her anymore or even aware that she was still in the room.

What was so special about stupid flowers anyway? It wasn’t nearly as exciting as a taser or a hot iron. Since when did Root care about that sort of smooshy stuff? Not ever, as far as Shaw could remember. What the hell had happened in the last eight months? Did they all get exposed to some weird ass virus that completely warped their personalities? Replaced with alien clones? _Yeah, that must be it_ , Shaw decided and spent the rest of the afternoon staring at Root trying to spot the slightest change to her appearance that would indicate that it was, indeed, an imposter standing in front of her.

“What?” said Root after about an hour. She had long since gotten bored of admiring her flowers and went back to work at the computer.

“What?” said Shaw dumbly.

Root frowned. “You keep looking at me.”

“No I’m not,” Shaw said quickly. “You’re looking at me.” She wanted to smack her forehead against the wall, especially when Root raised an eyebrow at her, amusement causing her lips to lift upwards. “Whatever,” Shaw muttered, climbing to her feet. She had the sudden urge to get out of the subway station. Fast. “Call me when we get a new number.”

She was pretty sure she wasn’t running out of there.

Maybe a gentle jog.

Almost positive.

~#~

“He got her jewellery,” said Shaw incredulously. “ _Jewellery._ When have you ever seen Root wearing jewellery?”

“Can’t say I’ve ever noticed,” Reese muttered through a bored yawn.

“I mean,” Shaw continued regardless of her unresponsive audience, “in our line of work, that shit is just going to get lost or broken. And it’s not even her _colour_.”

“Why do you care?” Reese asked. This time he was louder, making Shaw stop short.

“I don’t care,” she said. “Why would I care?”

“Right,” said Reese sceptically. “You’ve only been ranting about Fusco and Root for the last hour and a half. That totally implies that you don’t care.”

Shaw stared at him for a moment. Had it really been an hour and a half already? This was the quickest stakeout she had ever been on. (Well, for her at least. She really couldn’t say the same for Reese, who looked like he would rather poke his eyes out than stay in this car any longer.)

“I don’t rant,” Shaw snapped. She was just… having a heated discussion. By herself. And not because she cared. Nope. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea, is all.”

Reese shot her a questioning look. For the first time all night, he actually looked interested in what she was about to say.

“Office romances are a bad idea. It can interfere with the work. We have people to save. Root needs to stay focused, not prance around receiving gifts and giggling like a five year old girl. It’s unprofessional,” she added hastily. Realising she was rambling, Shaw quickly shut her mouth and pretended to ignore the way Reese was smirking at her.

“Technically,” said Reese, sitting up straighter in his seat when their number finally made an appearance, “they work in different offices.”

“Shut up.”

~#~

“You know it’s a bad idea, right?”

“Bad idea?” said Harold absently. Most of his concentration was on the bundle of cables he was trying to, unsuccessfully so far, untangle.

“Yeah,” said Shaw tersely, annoyed that he wasn’t keeping up with the conversation.

“I’m sorry,” said Harold, staring at her in confusion. “What’s a bad idea?”

Shaw huffed. “ _Them_.”

“Them?” said Harold, still none the wiser.

“Root and Fusco,” said Shaw testily.

“Oh,” said Harold and resumed fiddling with his cables. Shaw sighed. How could someone so bright be so dense? “What about them?”

“ _That_ ,” said Shaw, pointing at him enthusiastically to emphasise her point. She realised what she was doing and quickly dropped her arm to her side. “The fact that there is a them.”

“Hm,” said Harold. “They seem fairly happy to me.”

“Happy?” said Shaw incredulously. She wanted to throw up. Or set fire to something. Or both.

Harold sighed and dropped the cables on his desk so he could look at Shaw properly. “It’s been a long, hard war. One we almost didn’t win.” Feeling a bit sheepish about that, Shaw looked away. She had missed most of it in her absence for the past eight months. She was still feeling bitter about it. “I guess… we all found something to keep us going until the end. So, perhaps,” he said, turning away from her to pick up the cables, “you should just let Root be happy.”

“I’m not -” Shaw began, but cut herself off at Harold’s stern look. He was right. Asshat.

Maybe Root _did_ deserve to find happiness after everything.

But… with _Lionel_?

 _Really_?

~#~

“Do you think I’m being unreasonable? I don’t think I’m being unreasonable.”

Nothing.

“I mean, it’s not like I have anything against them, per say,” Shaw continued, “but don’t you think I deserved at least some sort of explanation after how things were left?”

Still nothing.

“Come on, I did the whole self-sacrificing thing to save the girl and then, what? I don’t get the girl. How is _that_ fair?”

The only response was a short whine. Shaw rested her head against the brick wall and continued to rub Bear behind the ears as he rested on her lap. He was a good listener. Didn’t interrupt with unwanted and unfounded opinions.

“And then they go and rub it in my face,” Shaw exclaimed, more loudly than she had intended, causing Bear to jump slightly. He settled back quickly when Shaw scratched his belly. “All I’m saying is a little heads up would have been nice. Or, you know, _something_.”

Bear growled.

“You’re right,” said Shaw, climbing to her feet and ignoring Bear’s disgruntled whine. “I should confront them. Demand an explanation.”

Whining lowly, Bear’s ears stood on end.

“I knew I could count on you, buddy,” Shaw added, giving him one last pat on the head before heading out of the subway.

~#~

Apparently Root and Fusco had taken a liking to working numbers together. And apparently everyone else was okay with this. Shaw, however, still thought it was a bad idea and thought the others were morons for not realising it.

According to Finch, they had just finished dealing with the latest number and were now tying up some loose ends. He hadn’t asked why she needed to know their location and Shaw hadn’t told him. Shaw rounded the end of the block and froze at the sight that met her.

Root and Fusco. In an embrace. Eww.

“No way,” Shaw snapped. Stepping forward, she grabbed Lionel around the neck from behind and pulled him away.

“What the hell?” he demanded, his voice coming out as a strained wheeze when Shaw tightened her grip.

“Sameen,” said Root calmly, “what are you doing?”

“What am I doing?” Shaw spat. “What are _you_ doing? And with _him_ , of all people.”

“Hey!” Fusco complained. Root shushed him, turning to Shaw and smirking at her.

“Didn’t know you cared, Shaw,” she said.

Shaw rolled her eyes. “I don’t.”

Root rolled her eyes right back. “I told you,” she said to Lionel.

“Told him what?” Shaw asked, narrowing her eyes. She didn’t like this. Any of it.

“You and Four Eyes so don’t pay me enough for this,” Lionel grumbled.

“We don’t pay you at all,” said Root.

“ _Exactly_ , Fruitcake. Now would you help me out here? Please,” he added at Root’s raised eyebrow.

Root sighed. “Shaw,” she said reasonably. “Could you let Lionel go? He kind of needs his windpipe to breathe.”

Shaw scowled. “What the hell is going on?” she asked, but let go of Lionel anyway. He fell to his knees, coughing dramatically. Shaw rolled her eyes and ignored him. “How are you two…” she gestured between them aggressively. “I don’t even want to think about it.”

“Why?” asked Root, surprising Shaw. “Why does it bother you so much?”

“It doesn’t,” said Shaw quickly. “I just think it’s weird.”

“I dunno,” said Root, shrugging. “It’s been kind of nice.” Even Fusco looked at her in surprise. “I guess having someone looking out for me and taking care of me feels good.”

Shaw scoffed. “Taking care of you? Please.” Root didn’t need taken care of, and especially not by Lionel Fusco. “ _Him_? Lionel can’t even take care of a bag of laundry.”

“Hey,” Lionel complained. “What’s with all the insults - and the headlocking? What did I ever do to you?”

“What did you ever do to me?” Shaw snapped. “Oh, I don’t know… only wormed your way in where you weren’t wanted when I was away.”

“Wormed my way in?” said Lionel. “I did no such thing.”

Shaw snorted. “Oh really? You were there, Lionel. I didn’t press that stupid button and get shot four times just for you to st-” Shaw quickly closed her mouth and tried to convince herself she hadn’t just turned bright red.

“Just for him to do what, Shaw?” Root asked, grinning.

“Nothing,” said Shaw, shaking her head. “Absolutely nothing.”

“What were you going to say?” Root asked.

“Yeah, I think we would all like to know,” said Lionel, rubbing at his neck as he scowled at Shaw.

Shaw sighed and muttered something under her breath.

“What was that?” Root asked, stepping closer.

“I said,” Shaw ground out impatiently, “I didn’t sacrifice myself and disappear for eight months just for _him_ to steal you from me.”

She was definitely red now, she had to be.

Root grinned even wider. “Steal me?”

“Shut up,” Shaw said. “That’s not - I mean, I’m not… ugh! I hate this.”

The grin dropped from Root’s face and she stepped closer to Shaw. Lionel had the decency to look away. “Shaw,” Root said carefully, “Lionel didn’t steal me from you.”

Shaw looked at her sharply. Root’s hand on her arm was warm even through her jacket. “He didn’t… You mean you’re not… You guys _aren’t_ dating?” she eventually snapped. Root shrugged sheepishly. “What the hell guys?”

“Well,” said Root, “we’re not exactly compatible. I mean, we both like dumb lifetime movies,” she said wistfully, “but I think that’s about the only thing we have in common.”

Shaw pulled a disgusted face. “Lifetime movies? Wait - nevermind… I don’t want to know,” she added, shaking her head. “So this was all for show? Why?”

“Well,” Lionel piped up, “it wasn’t _all_ for show.”

“It wasn’t?” said both Root and Shaw in surprise.

“No,” said Lionel, looking at Root. “You were right. It was kind of nice. Having someone to have dinner with, buy gifts for that made them smile. And well… no one else likes dumb lifetime movies like you and I do.”

“I’m about to throw up on your shoes,” said Shaw. Both Lionel and Root glared at her.

“I had fun too, Lionel,” said Root with a small smile.

“Seriously,” said Shaw in a bored voice, “about to start barfing all over the place.”

“Do you mind?” Lionel snapped. “We’re trying to have a moment here.”

“We are?” said Root.

“I can’t believe this,” said Shaw, shaking her head and staring at the nearest security camera as a cry for help or salvation or something.

“Yeah,” said Lionel. “You know, I never did any of that sort of stuff when I was married. I had no idea what I was missing out on, how great it could feel to have someone who actually looked forward to spending time with you. Who appreciated you. Making them smile when you buy dumb stuff that you’ll know they’ll like…” He was silent for a moment, staring dreamily into space. “I think I’m going to go call my ex.” And with that he pulled out his cell phone and walked away.

“Are you kidding me?” said Shaw incredulously. “Am I _in_ a lifetime movie right now?”

“No, Shaw, you’re not,” said Root testily before storming away in the opposite direction.

“Hey, wait,” said Shaw, grabbing onto her elbow to stop her from going any further. “You never told me the point of all this.”

Root laughed humourlessly. “If you can’t see it, then what _is_ the point?”

Shaw frowned, staring at Root in confusion as she walked away again. She thought about the past couple of weeks since her return, watching Root and Lionel make googly eyes at each other. Most of the time it was sickening and she wanted to punch something.

“You were trying to make me jealous,” said Shaw, stopping Root in her tracks. “Well…” she said slowly. “It worked.”

“It did?” said Root, turning around.

Shaw shrugged. “Still don’t get why,” she muttered.

“Because, Shaw,” said Root, rolling her eyes, “you would just have denied everything that happened between us.”

“Nothing happened between us,” Shaw said automatically. Root smiled, almost long-sufferingly. “It was just a kiss goodbye. A distraction,” she said defensively. “It didn’t-”

“Mean anything,” Root finished, staring down at her feet. She looked so miserable that Shaw almost wished Lionel was here to cheer her up.

“Count,” Shaw corrected, rolling her eyes. Root frowned at her. “But that doesn’t mean,” Shaw continued, taking a step forward, “that I didn’t mean it.”

“You meant it?” Root said, sounding hopeful.

Shaw rolled her eyes. “Oh, for Godsake,” she said, grabbing Root by the lapels of her jacket and crashing their lips together. Root moaned into her mouth, deepening the kiss before Shaw pulled apart. This time, when she pushed Root away from her, it wasn’t nearly as forceful. More...playful. “Is that clear enough for you?”

Root grinned. “John and Harry were right,” she said brightly. “This plan did work.”

Shaw glowered as she realised what Root meant. “This was _their_ idea? I’m going to kill them,” she vowed, clenching her hands tightly into fists. Those assholes had known the whole time and they let her… She was _never_ going to hear the end of this.

“Could you maybe kill them later?” Root asked, entwining her arm with Shaw’s as they strolled down the street. “It’s been a _long_ eight months and I have a new taser I really want to try out.”

Shaw smirked. “Funny,” she said. “I’ve got a new iron.”


End file.
